


Dare Not Sleep with the Devil

by LazBriar



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Foreplay, Gay, M/M, Oral, Teasing, cowboy, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25028422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazBriar/pseuds/LazBriar
Summary: Another commission! Thanks to a kind reader for their support and idea!Lucifer wants an "authentic" experience so pays Valentino a visit.
Relationships: Valentino and Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino/Lucifer
Comments: 1
Kudos: 78





	Dare Not Sleep with the Devil

**Dare Not Sleep with the Devil**

I am a thing with many names. I am a thing with numerous titles. You’ve heard of me, you’ve seen me. The Morning Star, the Eternal Enemy, the Devil, the sins of all humanity, Satan and, depending on your liberal interpretations of historic etymology, the _yetzer-hara._

But here I am Lucifer.

I am Emperor of this domain, lord of all that I see, wearing one of my endless masks. I wear these masks to appear as I desire. I wear them to entertain and indulge myself. I do so enjoy it, the theater of my own creations, even when they’re through the hands of another.

Oh, ahah, but I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. You’re not here for ramblings. You’re here to see me toy and amuse myself with the fresh clay so bountifully provided to me, here in this little thing we call _Pentagram City._ It is a strange place, a wonderful place, full of such indulgence, such raw hedonism, such perfect chaos. Ah, an artisanal work if I do say so myself, a distinct, beautiful mockery of _Him._

I know they watch in their hallowed sky, in their insufferable world. It brings me great joy to mock them. But, a tale for another time, if ever. No, no, you’re here for a _different_ little affair, aren’t you?

-*-

He wore his white tailcoat suit like he did his smile: perfectly. It wasn’t Luci’s usual nature to check himself over in the mirror. It wasn’t like he couldn’t snuff out any imperfection or nuance he didn’t like about himself. But there was something pleasantly primal about doing it the old-fashioned way. Coiffing his blond hair, adjusting hat, even checking if his teeth were properly filed.

“I don’t think you even prep yourself like this for our dinner nights.”

A calm voice poured out from the other room’s side. Lilith – the first sinner, the great traitor, the most beautiful of all women, Lucifer’s wife – gave him an amused smirk as the _Archenemy_ glanced towards her.

“More the reason to spice things up!” he tossed back. Lilith tilted her head.

“Are you saying I’m _boring,_ Lulu?”

Lucifer laughed. “You have it in reverse, my dear! Let a beast indulge itself and its head is calm, collected. _Clear.”_

Lilith laughed, the same laugh that wove itself into songs to pluck at the strings of the demons below. “That is, I think, the most roundabout way of calling this ‘post-nut clarity.’”

Lucifer yanked at his bowtie. “Is that what the kids are calling it?”

“You _know_ what they say.”

“But sometimes hearing _you_ say it is the best part.”

She swapped her legs, adjusting her dress, carrying the kind of figure that would drive even the sanest creature mad. The power, the beauty, oh it’d drive even the primal son of God to lose himself, it would.

Lucifer spread out his mask – his _body,_ his form, the appearance he chose for _this_ particular fraction of existence, all splayed out for Lilith to judge.

“How does this look? Too much, too little?”

“It’s the same thing you always wear.”

Lucifer frowned. “Yes, but am I wearing it _well?”_

Lucifer shook her head. “Are you fishing for my approval, or _his_? I didn’t realize you respected his standards at all.”

Lucifer chuckled, twirling a cane, pink light from the outer city washing in through their tall manor window. He waived his hand in effete manner, chuckling. “Ohhh, respect is such a _strong_ word, dear Lily.”

He approached her, gave her a warm smile, pressing lips against cheek. “Let’s say more. . . properly deceiving.”

She returned with another smirk. “Oh, you’re deceiving, certainly.”

Lily said nothing else. “There’s a silence there I don’t quite like,” Lucifer continued, amused.

He was ready though, as far as things were considered.

“And you’re still sure this is all comfortable for you?”

Of all things Lucifer need not do, it was ask the permission of _anything_ in this living universe for ‘permission,’ or to defy him. But for _her?_ Anything.

“Oh Lucifer, _please,”_ she said, leaning back in her chair, “It’s _only_ Valentino.”

“All the more to reason to ask.”

She touched his hand. “And deny you an opportunity to toy with your things? I’m not a monster.”

Lucifer drew back, face stretched into another razor grin. “Are you _sure?”_

She paused. Then, after a moment: “No.”

“Ah, beautiful songstress. Allowing a poor man to indulge himself.”

“Poor man, ahaha.”

Lucifer laughed too. They harmonized in a chorus of cackles that wasn’t exactly _right,_ as though the sound shouldn’t exist. A beautiful cacophony laden with love and chaos, harmony and sinister intent. Woe to oblivion when the Emperor of Hell is amused.

-*-

Ahh, Valentino.

One of these younger Overlord upstarts (by Lucifer’s count, anyway) who leaned into the flamboyancy of indulgence. Lucifer really took to Val’s modern take on indulgence and sin, what with all the bright neon lights, bass-heavy ambiance for music, drowning patrons in drugs, drink, and sex. Primal, certainly, but with an updated touch.

“I _really_ love what you’ve done with the place.”

Lucifer reclined on a lavish chair in Val’s nightclub (or one of them), the distant, muffled sounds of hammering beats dripping over the foyer like audible fog. The lights were dimmed but touched with washing pallets of sickening neon, bathing bodies below as they shifted together in motions of dance and debauchery. In front of him, on an opposing couch, perched with Lucifer and high above the other sinners, was Valentino.

An Overlord, he called himself, one of the leeches deeply embedded in Luci’s power structure. Or at least, the power structure of _Pentagram City._ What the pimp lacked in blunt, brutish power, he more than made up for with connections, suave, deceit, wealth, and manipulation.

“You’re too kind, my lord,” said Valentino with a familiar grin, bathed in his scarlet robes, hat, and refined jewelry. “We opened this establishment not a month ago and it’s already taken off. The little success, you know? Have to appreciate them.”

Luci laughed inwardly. _My lord?_ It was amusing when the Overlords bathed him with respect and admiration, knowing well they were but vultures, snapping at his ankles for a shred of this illusionary power.

Luci raised his glass, sipping down his appletini (yes, yes, thematics he liked to keep). “Small? Oh, you’ve been rising like a star ever since you hitched up with that, ah, who was it? Angel Dust?”

Val’s mouth curled and grit and did something resembling annoyance. “You could say that.”

Lucifer nodded in exaggerated fashion, knowing _full_ well of the wherabouts of Hell’s “biggest porn star.” His daughters doing and her misguided cause. But goodness, if it caused suffering in even the slightest of ways, it was so deliciously worth it.

“So I could!” continued Luci. “But I hear he’s harder to find, is that right? Sorry, rumors don’t get to me, must have a worm in my apple.”

Val did not drop his façade. “It’s a minor contract issue, nothing else. No need to worry about such petty things. Not _you,_ not the Big Daddy Apple, right sugar?”

Lucifer set down his empty glass, smirked, and leaned back into his couch. The lights touched his pale, white flesh and handsome features, hinting at his masculine yet effete aura. So, Val was getting to it already, eh? Well, not that the _devil_ should blame a pimp for leading a conversation where it would inevitably conclude.

Lucifer wasn’t here to twist a metaphorical knife. Well, not completely. No, no, he was here to touch one of his toys, to indulge some of his hedonistic desires he rarely got to explore. He had so many faces, so many forms, and of the was so plainly depicted as a bullish, horned demon. Oh yes, the demon with his feral cock always assaulting the women-folk and planting seeds of evil, yadda yadda. All of Creation failed to understand, that was more his _father’s_ brand. Lucifer was a creature of sin, indulgence, exploration into the forbidden.

He desired all things and all shapes, if only to defile them in his own way. Tonight, he’d use Val like he used many others gallivanting about in his realm. He’d already had an amusing tussle with the youngest upstart, Alastor. Now it was time to have some fun with a “veteran.”

“Big Daddy Apple. . .” repeated Luci. “I don’t think I’ve been called that in an age. Not even Lilly says it.”

Val managed a chuckle. “Well, we’ll keep it between us then, eh sugar?”

Ahaha, how cute. It certainly was in character for Valentino to maintain sordid secrets. The classic tale of weak men and women absconding with creatures of the night. Breaking oaths, marriages, the vulgar brutality of _cheating._ It was one of Lucifer’s favorites. The Big Guy _loved_ holy unions, so it was delicious to see them shatter for a brief moment of earthly delights. Luci would never _truly_ get to experience such a thing, but it was fun to pretend.

“You _are_ a man of secrets, aren’t you Vee?” returned Lucifer.

“Only the best kind.”

Val glanced to the side, indicating he was ready to move things along. At this point, Lucifer left the floor to him, see how _he_ pulled things along. There was an invisible air of pressure, certainly, a realization, a _knowing._

Oh yes, Lucifer knew the rumors about his estate and house, his power, how the schemers and Overlords and various authorities connived together. They believed they would one day inherit Hell, perhaps fantasized about toppling Lucifer’s family and his throne. Ah, the poor dears. Of course, when directly in _The Emperor of Hell’s_ presence, such formalities vaporized. Now, ilk like Valentino were forced to entertain, to indulge their lord, to _remember_ who they were and _where_ they were.

“Might we enjoy this evening somewhere more private, darlin’?” coaxed Val. “The floor is crowded, and I want you all to myself.”

Hah, and hear Lucifer thought Val was only good at manipulating others.

“Ohh, don’t I feel spoiled,” said Luci with a flirty toss of the head.

Val stood, holding out his arm, and Lucifer took it. They clung together like an old couple, quite alarming in how snug they were. Lucifer twiddled his cane as Val led him along to an elevator. Said elevator was gilded with plates of gold, where Valentino dialed in the floor number, taking the two topside.

“This is my personal suite,” said Val with a grin. “Only I have access to it. It’s for _very_ special guests.”

Luci hid a chuckle. It was so dearly amusing to see the much taller Overlord play the “sweetheart.” He wore his metaphorical mask well.

“Very special? Please,” returned Luci with a playful air, “I’m _only_ the devil.”

They shared a mutual chuckle as the elevator reached its topmost destination, the shimmering doors sliding open with a resounding ‘ding.’

With, a massive, circular room with a wide view of Pentagram City’s expanse revealed itself. The walls hung with various pinups and adult movie posters – all dominated by Angel Dust, whereas decor and embroidery was a mix of gold, diamond, or some other ritzy accent. There was a bar for drinks, a panel for monitoring security, several luscious couches, a massive wide screen television installed in the wall, and a few secret panels for ‘party favors’. You know, drugs, guns, the usual.

“Frugal living, I see,” said Luci with a smirk. Valentino tugged him along, gesturing wide with his other free hands.

“I can’t help but indulge,” he said. “And it helps me think. If you deem to direct the best skin-flicks in Pentagram City, you better live like you’re the best.”

“You’ve no trouble with that.”

Val kept pace with Luci’s comments. Whether the Emperor of Hell was toying with him or being genuine, he couldn’t tell, but he’d take it regardless.

“Only the best for the _best_ company,” said Val. “Have you seen my recent works?”

Lucifer looked about the room, then at the window. The entirety of the city sprawled before him, spires of black striking into the sky, monoliths of hedonism. This elaborate world he’d concocted – it never failed to amuse him.

“Afraid not, Val old boy. I’m a classicalist – a real fuddy duddy. Theater, opera, musicals, the boring things.”

Valentino laughed, strolling to the bar. “The classics? You ought to come by more, show us all how it’s done.”

The Overlord set aside his tall hat and pulled free various ingredients and glasses. “Vox is all ideas and technology, you understand. He misses the _soul,_ the _art_ of adult film. It’s not all flashing lights and moving bodies.”

Lucifer swirled his cane, tapping it on the ground. The rod dissipated in a puff of black smoke while he presumptuously took a seat, reclining on one of the provided couches. “Trouble in paradise?” said Lucifer.

Indeed, the way Val corned about Vox, the implications of a relationship were impossible to miss. Val, though, waved this off. “Not quite. But perhaps we could use a ‘classic’ touch from time to time, eh darlin’?”

Afterward, Val promptly mixed his drink of choice while glancing over at Lucifer. “Want another?” he offered. “I make it better than the swill downstairs.”

Lucifer chuckled. “You call it _swill?_ They work for you.”

Val only laughed, his sharp, gold tooth glinting in the room light. “ _Honey._ Simulated taste. Knock off, discount. Surely you noticed?”

“I suppose I _was_ polite about the appletini.” No real apples, and the devil _knew_ apples.

The Overlord wiggled his now full glass. “This is the real shit. Imported, straight from Up There. Gotta’ bend about three-dozen cocks to get mortal ingredients, but it’s worth it.”

Lucifer chuckled. “Look at _you,_ dabbling in mortal affairs. Do I have competition?”

For a brief moment there was a stiff pause, that – for the briefest of seconds – Valentino remembered his deep ambitions, the kind _he_ didn’t even know he had yet. But Lucifer certainly did. Conspirators were so easy to pick out from the lot.

“Hardly,” Val assured, strolling to the couch. “Who could compete, after all?”

Lucifer said nothing, save watch the Overlord savor his drink with slow, steady gulps. It was amusing in its own way, to savor such a simple earthly delight. But Down Here, all were denied what they lost in the mortal realm, and even if you _could_ get something, it was a tease, a grim reminder, sharpening appetite rather than sating it.

Val finished his drink, released a sated sigh, and set the glass down. “Ahh, what we do for the genuine article.”

“Isn’t that so?” said Luci with a head tilt. “It’s why I came about here, after all.”

Val looked to Lucifer, saw the way his eyes poured into him. It was thrilling, but also alarming. What did one say to the demands of the Devil?

Only thing he knew: going along. “Well sugar, nobody’s more genuine than me,” touted Val. “Just ask every John and Mary that want a dick on my screen.”

It was Lucifer’s turn to grin, wearing a Cheshire expression of mad, lustful voracity, much like a beast preparing to bite into its prey. “Oh, I wouldn’t ask them.”

Lucifer looked over Valentino. “Just you.”

Valentino chuckled. “Clever, you.”

“I am something of honey in the ears, or so I’m told.”

Val nodded, looking to the wall where another door lead to his private quarters, his bedroom. “And a classicalist, so you said.”

He gestured. “Given that old-timey tradition, perhaps a setting more _you_ is in order.”

The moth stood. “Good dish needs a big plate, right?”

Once again, Lucifer laughed. “Given your business, I appreciate the tit-for-tit, _Big V._ Ahh, every other succubus and incubi starts demanding cock after a line. Gets old.”

Understanding, Val held out his hand for Lucifer. “Sometimes the wordplay is the best part, Apple Daddy.”

Lucifer sneered inwardly. Val was almost a charming gent if you ignored the black-hearted pimp angle. Still, he took the Overlord’s hand and they sauntered towards a setting far more appropriate. Lucifer had nothing against tasting Val with the city in the background, but the bed was ritualistic. The altar where congregations were made, where lovers whispered sweet nothings and children were conceived and moments of privacy were shared. Intimate.

Something to despoil, another Creation to befoul.

When the door slipped shut, pretense did too. Lucifer gave a lustful command, eyeing up the taller frame of his counterpart. “Turn around.”

Val did so, smirking. “Normally, that’s my line.”

“Normally one doesn’t get sucked off by the Devil, either.”

At this, Val’s eyes widened, if only a little. “. . .well sugar, you sound like a snatch fresh on the interview.”

“A beast needs its meal,” returned Lucifer, voice dark and warm like black honey. “And I’m quite hungry.”

“As long as I don’t end up on a spit. . .”

Lucifer looked up, pulled off his hat and tossed it aside, coiffed blonde locks complimented his alabaster flesh. “No promises.”

Given the reputation of the _THE DEVIL,_ Val wasn’t sure if that was a joke. For now, he observed Luci take his fingers and part the long scarlet robe, going to to waist and unfastening diamond-studded belt as attires began to loosen. It was quite bewildering. This was. . . _Him._ The one on top, the lord of this domain, everything. Right here, now, untangling Val from his clothes, about to feast on his root like a common tart. Should he be excited? Flattered? Terrified? Amused?

Well, when in doubt, “keep your dick hard.” He followed that advice and his cock hadn’t led him wrong yet. Alright, sure, it was Lucifer. But right now, in this bedroom, away from all the empires and wealth and power struggles and politics. . . they were just two sinners looking for a good time.

“What _do_ we have here?”

Val returned to attention as Lucifer had pulled aside his attire. The long robe fell to the ground while Val revealed the rest of sinewy a form, a lithe frame of velvet hued flesh and moth-like features. Despite his lean height, though, he wasn’t “lacking.” Head of a porn industry couldn’t be that, oh no.

Lucifer pulled free Val’s flank, his soft yet swollen member firmly in the palm of the devil. Luci stroked against it, admiring the inches, actively salivating. There was enough girth to fill his hand and warm arousal spilled from Val’s proximity, his cock twitching from the touches.

“Gnn, what do I have to pay the lord of hell to get a pair of hands like that in my studio?” commented Val, watching with intrigue.

Luci proceed to pull off his top, setting aside the white tailcoat suit. His own body was lean too, touched with a gentle chord of muscle. A perfect porcelain figure, crafted from the etchings of sin. At Val’s words, Lucifer looked up, flashed a grin, and spoke.

“Oh, your eternal soul, nothing important.”

Val blinked. “Funny you.”

“Mmhmhmhm, so I’m told.”

Now, Lucifer dawned a more “sinister” motive. “But, my mouth does _plenty_ more, don’t you worry.”

Thrilling. Yes. Val felt that now. Uncertainty and fear subsided, because seeing Lucifer slip to his knees to dawn a pose oh-so familiar was. . . hard to believe. Not that he doubted the Devil, you had to a know a cock in all ways Down Here (Devil knew he had plenty of “practice” with Vox). But, frankly, he figured Luci settled for the best. Or only his wife. Him? Flattered, he was, in a surreal way.

Then the familiar, the oh so sinful familiar.

Luci wrapped his warm, soft lips around Val’s tip, apply a smooth, suckling pressure there. Val heaved with a delighted sigh as the tight fit held him snug, Luci’s mouth just large enough to host the Overlord’s commanding inches. Luci purred, drool slipping down his chin as he coaxed the first inch in his mouth, tongue lapping around the tip in playful fashion before releasing it with an audible ‘pop.’

“My, my, who knew?” chimed Lucifer, glancing up while stroking the member in free palm. Val hissed from a growing, hot electricity, the radiating physical intensity rising with every motion.

“Much bigger than you let on. I see why they call you _Big V.”_

Val managed a chuckle, more focused on Lucifer’s suckling mouth. “Guess we’re full of surprises, eh _Apple Daddy?”_

Lucifer didn’t respond with words. Instead, proceeded to engulf the inches with a smooth, practiced motion. It was perfect. He did it like a pro, but given who he was, Val couldn’t be surprised. Frankly, didn’t all sinners take after _the fucking devil?_ What better way than to middle finger your Father’s “grand design” than by suckin’ dick?

“Oh, god, sugar,” murmured Val, running a hand through Luci’s gold locks as the handsome face rose and dove in slow, methodic motions. “Ever considered the silver screen?”

Luci only chuckled. Well, sort of anyway, his throat was full of dick. He fluttered his eyelids in flirtatious fashion as he continued to stroke the inches with his skilled mouth, leaving trails of saliva in its wake. Luci wasn’t content to cease there, however. His free hand travelled to Val’s testes, cupping the stones with gentle strength, enough to squeeze but not harsh enough to cause pain. All this did was illicit another rumble of pleased moans from the tall moth, his mind growing hazy with content bliss.

Lucifer popped him free, licking his lips. “You’re a bit easier to flatter than I expected, Val.”

Val smirked and grunted. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean, _darlin’?”_

“Ah, you fold like a first timer. But I forgive you, you haven’t been with _me_ yet.”

In another instance Val wouldn’t forgive such lip, but this circumstance was _quite_ different. And well, the lingering paranoia of what Lucifer could do if protested against certainly lingered. Best to enjoy the ride, because _what_ a ride.

The Devil continued his devious work by engulfing the inches in another smooth motion, this time burying it deeper into his throat. Presex mingled with his saliva while he took the moth into his oral chamber, continuing to fondle the lavender testes in careful manner. Though, he wasn’t content to work Val in such a way. The moth was head of the adult industry Down Here, after all, certainly he’d enjoy _more._ Luci wet his free digits, taking the pair and roaming behind Val’s backside, gently nudging his ring in gentle but explorative fashion. There was a grunt of tension, though ease, as Luci aimed for Val’s prostate, a way to send a spike of electric tingles through his frame.

“Enjoying that, are we?” intoned Lucifer as he broke his oral grip, watching Val’s face for reaction.

“Mnng. . .” was the response.

“Hah.”

He placed the purple tip upon his tongue while Val stroked his blonde locks. “Gonna. . . pay that back in full. . . sugar. . .”

Well, Luci would be disappointed if it was anything less. For now, he figured the moth was good for a few drains, so he proceeded to hasten his actions. “Mmmhmhm, will you now?”

Lucifer slurped the inches, stroking them with his hot lips, feeling each toss of his head drew the moth closer and closer to peak. Ah, the warmth he felt, the immense sense of “fullness” that came with suckling the root of flesh. His liquid sexuality allowed him to indulge in the darkest of things, debasing himself to serve the fleshy pillar. He knew Val was almost there, almost to his first orgasm, and Luci yearned for it, ached to pull it free, to instill that sense of bliss and longing.

So, he did.

“Oh FUCK,” Val spat, buckling. His entire frame shook and wobbled from orgasm, reaching his first peak like a jolt of heat. Surging, intense electric pleasure rushed through him, threatening to send him on his ass were it not for Luci making a convenient hand rest. He gripped the Devil’s blonde locks while Luci gingerly gulped and slurped the ropes of issue escaping Val, before pulling back and allowing the issue to splatter his cheeks in messy, demeaning fashion.

Val drooled, panting as flecks of sweat dappled his lavender-hued skin, gazing at the sight with a dizzy awe. Not a thing he ever imagined, to have _Lucifer_ between his legs like you would a common harlot. Not that he was complaining.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” said Lucifer with a cheeky air, running a finger through the seed on his cheeks.

“I suppose easy girls don’t make for much fun, do they? Oh, and what with your little Angel running off, things are hard, aren’t they _Big V?”_ continued Lucifer in almost mock fashion, stroking the still hard shaft and running the tip into his cheek.

“You could say that,” grunted Val.

Another laugh. “Well why don’t you show me just _how hard.”_

It didn’t take a genius to understand Luci’s innuendo. And yes, Val was still erect, his monolith hungry for more. It was startling, actually. It felt so _real._ Like he was touching mortal flesh for the first time in eons. Was this the gift Lucifer had? Granting sensations from life rather than the “imitation” one experienced in Hell?

He. . . wanted more of it.

Valentino didn’t even remember getting to the bed. He was standing there with Lucifer between his legs and then they were on the sheets. He was that lustful for it, like an animal, a primal urge ripping through him.

Lucifer was bare now, his alabaster flesh glistening with its porcelain perfection. He had an intriguing frame, masculine yet effete, sculpted like marble, generous but taut. It was pale and it reminded the moth of Angel Dust, stirring a strange feeling of want. Fine, if the spider wanted to run off, he’d settle for the Devil instead!

Lucifer was on all fours in an expected fashion, where Val ran two arms under his abdomen, the others on his hips. The flesh was warm, real, and supple to the touch. Even touching the Devil incited strangely blissful feelings.

“Eager as a schoolboy,” chided Lucifer. “Is this your first time?”

In a bizarre, perverse sort of way, it was. When, exactly, did he fuck an entity like this? Val didn’t have a clever reply, responding only with a chuckle. He was better with a different sort of “language” anyway.

With Lucifer so close, Val couldn’t contain himself. His dribbling, sloppy tip pressed against Lucifer’s ring, nuzzling the entrance, causing the Devil to shudder. A sensitive rush of tingly electricity overwhelmed his lower half, forcing his cock erect and sending pleasant tremors throughout his frame. Ah, so amusing this spot, long bemoaned by stuffy godly worshippers as a forbidden area of flesh. But the Devil knew how delightful the sensation was, licking his sharp teeth as Val pushed into him.

“Fuck, sugar,” hissed Val, “tight as a drum. . .”

Even with the moth buried deep in him, Luci could manage to speak. “Mmph, please, leave the wordplay to me, _Vee.”_ Really now? Tight as a drum? Man needed to hire a writer.

“Fine,” returned Val, “then I’ll _fuck.”_

Maybe Val wasn’t always so smooth when he spoke, but he was with his hips. Right now, in this sordid little moment, the Devil was like another broad, another woman of the night. Alright, maybe it was a _little_ more special than that. But the premise was the same, the _instinct._ And that’s all you needed. No language was quite so universal as bangin’.

Val plunged deep, spreading Luci enough that the fit was tight, but snug. His spare hands roamed over Luci’s rump, the soft flesh filling his palms with generous supple weight. He squeezed, Luci shivering in response again as Val twitched in the hot orifice, nuzzling the prostate. Guess it was the Devil’s turn. For a moment, he savored the sensation, how the tight wetness held him in place, though provided enough soft cushioning so the grip wasn’t _excruciating._

But the longer he stayed inside, the more his body wanted, as did Lucifer. And ah, what a feeling. The dark thrill of fucking, defying “grand design,” bundled with bedding one of Hell’s Overlords. There was something intoxicating about doing it with Valentino, something so deliciously filthy. It lacked the puff and affair of romance and elegance. It was just a nice, ugly fuck, perfect for Hell.

So in that pocket of time, the moth thrust into him, rude and rough. The pace was steady at first, enough that every inch was felt within Luci, every stroke. It was decadent, allowing the pair to savor every stroke and sensation. Val leaned over his partner, drool slipping down his chin as he hissed into Lucifer’s ear in possessive fashion. As long as he was fucking the Devil, it didn’t matter who was who, dicks and holes were all the same.

A resounding chorus followed after, the growing haste of thighs smacking into rump, intermixed with the pair’s rough grunts. Luci bucked forward with each throw of Val’s hips, eyes rolling up and tongue practically hanging free.

“Pretty fat for a thin’ fella!” he chided, in reference to Val’s girth. He didn’t get a word in response, rather harsher pounds from the pimp moth.

But Lucifer wasn’t content to play the whore the whole night. Oh he let Valentino believe so, if for a while, but even when getting fucked, he’d always be on top. Roping his around Val’s neck, he pulled the moth close and grinned. “You’re my saddle tonight.”

Before Valentino could process what Lucifer meant, he was on his back. In a smooth, stern motion, their positions shifted. He’d straddled Val, cowboy style, wearing a sinister grin. Despite the movement, however, Val was still inches deep in the Devil, though taken aback with the surprising demonstration of strength. It was enough to remind the Overlord just who he was dealing with, and that all this conspired because Lucifer _wanted_ it to happen.

Fortunately for Val, he wanted it to happen too.

Luci wore his sneering visage and proceeded to rise and fall upon the harsh length, ushering moans with each motion. A rude applauds of rump clapping against hips filled the room, once again intermixed with the groans of the pairing. Val grabbed the Devil’s lithe hip for support, his other free hand roaming over the slender alabaster flesh, exploring all the grooves and sinewy of the elegant frame. It was an alluring kind of beauty, caught between vaguely effete and masculine, perverse yet perfect.

But, hey, Val wasn’t _so_ greedy to take it all for himself. While Luci rode him, Valentino gripped the Devil’s defiant cock and applied a gentle but tight series of strokes. Luci growled with approval, head tilting as he hastily bounced upon the inches. Sweat dappled his beautiful features, his cock twitching against Val’s stroking palm, waves of warm, radiating electric pleasure surging through his loins.

“Oh that’s _ecstasy!”_

Old fashioned indeed. Another demon might say “fuck” or something similar, but the Devil?

Still, the result was the same. After so much grinding and having his prostate worked over, he _finally_ peaked, his trembling inches spurting to life as hot seed burst from his tip. Issue streaked out on the sheets and on Val’s chest, making a mess, while Lucifer’s head rolled back and, for a moment, he froze, hitting a physical intensity that it bordered on pain.

“Fuckingchristfuck!” groaned Val, hitting his peak took, throbbing mast shuddering to life as he spilled and drained himself into his partner. His heart raced and the blissful afterglow of orgasm consumed him, seconds speeding by until every drop escaped his body.

Then came the silence, the recovery, the tense quiet as frames held the sheets, a small opera of heavy breathing filling the room.

As seed trailed from Lucifer’s hole, he cupped Valentino and smiled darkly. “Ah. _Darling.”_

Val smiled back, but there was something unsetting about it.

-*-

Indeed.

Four days later, 8 hours, 22 minutes. Valentino stared at his Hellphone. He’d made at least 16 calls to Lucifer since their “playdate,” and he didn’t understand _why._

Well, no, that was a lie. He knew. He wanted Lucifer, wanted him in ways he couldn’t properly understand. Sure the fucking was great, but everything else was so much better. The proximity of power, the personality. . .

But Lucifer wasn’t returning his calls, and in his dismal, quiet moments, the dreadful realization took hold of the Overlord. _This_ was the Devil’s true game, the agony he inflicted in his own special little way. He let Valentino bite the apple, taste the supple flesh of bliss and dark paradise, only to snatch it away, _forever._ Valentino was a _game_ to Lucifer, another toy to pass his time.

Val could never speak openly about this, and it ate at him. The moth always figured he was untouchable. That _he_ was the manipulator, the controller, the mastermind. But now? He was like the girl you didn’t call back, the one-and-done. Didn’t matter that his dick was in Lucifer, _he_ got fucked.

Guess that’s what happens when you get in bed with the Devil.


End file.
